


Mary's ghost

by musicfortables



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band), Mary Goore - Fandom, Repugnant (Band), Tobias Forge - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25109485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicfortables/pseuds/musicfortables
Summary: Going out and having fun with his band was all he cared for, but an encounter with the liminal was in order that night. Had he seen too many horror movies lately?
Kudos: 4





	Mary's ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fictional story I made up in my head! Quite David Lynch if I may say so myself haha. I love to ellaborate on how I think people would react to different situations and describe them in various scenes. So this was really fun to do! Enjoy!  
> Mary Goore picture for referential purposes <3

  
  


The place was quite gloomy and crowded. A group of young men were drinking their lights out in the bar and having fun.  
None of them looked specially fresh that night, they were drunk, smoking and laughing at almost anything they said or saw. One of them had black hair, longer at the front, which partially covered his green eyes. He was rolling a cigarrette, trying to focus while another guy poked fun at him.

  
"He can't even see the fucking cig"  
"Shut up"

  
The guy went by the name of Mary Goore. Weeks passed by, only to see the week-ends come. Playing with his band and going out to bars was all he cared for at that moment. He would usually return home the next morning with a huge hangover and watch a gore film until he fell asleep. Well, at least if he wasn't bringing company back with him. And whenever anyone asked him what he wanted to do for a living, he always answered the same: music.  
Music was his life all along, ever since he was a child. But, alas, he was trying to roll that damn cigarrete and couldn't even get his thoughts straight, let alone playing guitar or singing at the moment.

  
He finished rolling the monster and lighted it up, not without effort. Smoke would come out of his nostrils as he closed his eyes briefly, smiling. "Where's my beer?". Feeling in a daze, he looked around the bar. His green eyes were closing by the second, he frowned trying to stay awake. He was having fun but was tired after the last show.  
His face had leftover paint which resembled a skull, or what was left of it after a hell of a performance. He didn't even bother shaving before he painted it on and some blood splatters came out of his forehead and rolled down to his long neck. Sometimes people would ask "is that real blood?". Depending on the night he would act it up or not.

  
"I'll go take a pee"

  
Standing up seemed like an impossible chore. Had the floor always been so away from him? He laughed and tried to walk straight. A checkered shirt hung from his hips, the black sleeveless t-shirt was baggy on his thin body and the jeans were practically battered.  
He dragged his feet around to the bathroom. Upon arriving, two girls were inside chatting and got quiet when they saw him. They inspected him and smiled savagely. Mary leaned his shoulder on the door's frame and stared at them with intense eyes. The cigarrette was still hanging on his lips.

  
"What"

  
One of the girls dragged the other one outside, for which they had to basically rub against Mary's body to get out. He grinned stupidly and went ahead before peeing himself.

  
"Wash your hands you dirty bastard"

  
He reminded himself while trying to manipulate the water tap. The smoke from the cigarrette left him virtually blind and everything was basically a struggle to survive at that point. Suddenly Mary got trapped by the drunken haze. Staring at the running water while his hands were dripping and the cigarrette was stuck to his lower lip, at the verge of falling.

  
"Hey"

  
His tired, green eyes looked up to the mirror. He didn't really know what he was seeing at first, because he had been drinking all night (even though he always swore not to do it ever again the morning after). His eyes stared blindly at the reflection.

  
"Hey you"  
"Me? What the fuck do you want?"

  
Mary frowned and talked to the guy in the mirror who was pestering him. The man wouldn't answer, just point at him and laugh like mad.

"Look at you!"

  
Mary's cigarrette fell to the sink and got destroyed by the running water, which made him look down, close the tap and look back up. The guy in the reflection looked quite older than Mary. Very handsome, very polite, smart, successful. Everything Mary wasn't at that point in his life. Everything he hated. His hair was properly trimmed and all done up, which provoked a face of disgust in Mary.  
Mary turned around, ready to punch the life out of the stupid bastard who was laughing at him. He looked everywhere but the older man wasn't there. "Get out you cunt!". An evil, playful laughter came out of the mirror. He turned back at it.

  
"Spöke"

  
The man got a bit more serious this time and looked at him like a man who looks down at his son.

  
"What?"

  
Mary was still pretty drunk at this point, thinking he was dying over the sink with no one there to help him, seeing a stupid boring man talk to him about random shit.

  
"Spöke"

  
The man smiled and vanished. Mary reached for the mirror and touched it. It was really dirty after a full night of clients. He shook his head, his black hair followed the movement and landed against his big nose, after which he brushed it all back with water and took a moment to rest with his back against the door. He was trying to process everything. How was he going to tell what he saw to a therapist? Where could he even find one of those around? Then he got to the conclusion that he didn't need one, he needed a new cigarrette.

  
Looking at the mirror one last time, he opened the door and a man pushed him, desperate to go to the bathroom. Mary got out as quick as possible, trying not to fall down.   
The two girls from a while back were looking at him. They were pretty and he would have said something else, were not for the fact that he felt his brains melting down at that moment. He was feeling anxious and needed clean air, so he walked fast towards the door and got out. His friends were confused but couldn't be bothered to follow him at that moment, which he felt grateful for. 

  
He imagined telling his drunk friends "hey, I saw SOMEONE on the mirror. No, no... I saw an impossibly stupid and poshy guy laughing at ME and talking about ghosts". Cold sweat ran down his face, his make up was practically invisible by then and he tried to light up a cigarrette he had around his pockets (which surprised him, being full of holes like they were. He calculated his city would be owing him the drastic amount of 100€ in just that month, due to all the cigarrettes he had been loosing around lately).

  
The way back home cleared up his mind a bit. He blamed it all on booze and called it a day. "Yes, that's it. I'm going straight edge. Tomorrow". Smoke came out of his nostrils as he tried to open his house's door. When he finally came in, his boots flew all the way to the staircase, where they landed. He lost his pants somewhere between the hall and the kitchen and the checkered shirt got loose enough to fall on it's own after him.  
Mary took a big glass of cold water and gulped it down. He let out a big sigh, the one you make when you have been on the verge of dehydration for hours. He then took his ass to the armchair, loaded a horror film on the video and sat down.

  
"Nosferatu will save the night".

  
Comfortably sitting, he lighted up the last cigarrette left, dreading the moment he had to go out buying more. "But that will be tomorrow. Now's horror movie night. Nosferatu never lets me down. He's a nice guy".  
Staring at the old film, which he had already watched many times before since he was a kid, his right hand holding his aching head with the cigarrette between his lips. He blew out the smoke and started laughing.

  
"That guy. He had a ring in his hand"

Mary was laughing so much, the smoke flew everywhere around.

"He was fucking married. Loser"

He finished smoking and watched Nosferatu fool around until his eyes closed.

\--- EPILOGUE ---

A pannel full of random flashing lights, monitors and buttons and a man who counted down to three. Then a voice started sounding from behind a huge microphone. It was a radio podcast in Sweden and it was a really hot day of August.

"You're listening to Summer in P1 - My name is Tobias Forge, mastermind of the band Ghost".

As he finished saying that, he got a random flashback out of nowhere.

A mirror.

An older, cooler man (even thoug he always liked to think he looked stupid) laughing at him and the only word he told him was _Spöke_.

It took him some seconds to realize he was his own ghost in the mirror.

He smiled and started talking about his family and his successful metal band as memories unfolded...


End file.
